


Honestly

by pandacowhipster



Category: Sky High (2005)
Genre: F/M, Post-Graduation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-02
Updated: 2015-07-02
Packaged: 2018-04-07 06:12:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4252380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pandacowhipster/pseuds/pandacowhipster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“We’ve gotta stop meeting like this."<br/>“I wouldn’t call you stalking me at work every time you get stood up ‘meeting’, but I agree, please stop.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Honestly

“We’ve gotta stop meeting like this,” Layla says, leaning against the counter.

“I wouldn’t call you stalking me at work every time you get stood up ‘meeting’, but I agree, please stop,” Warren says, with no sincerity. The Paper Lantern is deserted and he’s not actually looking to scare off his only company.

“I wasn’t stood up,” Layla says crossly, “it’s not standing someone up if there’s giant robots involved.”

Warren snorts softly, not looking up from where he’s wiping down the counter, “you keep telling yourself that.”

She picks up a menu and turns it around in her hands, probably just for something to do, considering she’s here so much she probably knows the vegetarian sections by heart.

“It’s also not being stood up,” she says finally, “if you’re not technically together anymore.”

Warren does look up at that, “Seriously? I thought you two exchanged promise rings and everything.”

“Shut up. We decided to go on a break. We were gonna talk about it tonight but something super came up.”

Warren wonders if part of her plant powers are pheromones that compel him to talk about all her problems because despite how not interested he is in Stronghold’s personal life, he asks, “So what’s the problem?”

“The problem,” Layla says, slapping her menu down, “is Titana.”

“Isn’t she the one with the–” Warren falters, unable to find a tactful way to say ‘aggressive amounts of cleavage’. He feels like if he ever admitted to even looking at someone’s breasts Layla would slap him, “–laser vision?”

“They’ve been teaming up a lot. I feel like he can relate to her more, what with them both being active heroes.”

“You’re a hero,” Warren counters. He’s seen her on the news plenty in her Gaia get-up. Granted, she’s less about beating down bank robbers and more into disaster relief, but she still helps people.

She smiles at that, ducking her head and sending a wave of shiny red hair tumbling over her shoulder. ”Am I being stupid?” She asks quiet and soft.

“Hm?”

“About Will, about thinking high school sweethearts is something that lasts after high school. After the real world gets involved.”

“I’m the last guy you’d wanna ask. I’m pretty sure my longest relationship was with you, back when we were trying to make lover boy jealous. Also like half my exes have turned out to be super villains.”

“Yikes.”

Warren grins at her, “I take after my mom.”

She swats him on the arm, “you didn’t answer me.”

He shrugs, “honestly? You’re in love with Will and Will’s in love with being a hero.”

She frowns, “you think so?”

“He’s obsessed with living up to the family name. Dude’s got more daddy issues than me. It’s up to you whether or not you mind always coming in second.”

Layla sighs like she’s sad, but not surprised. Resigned, he thinks, she sighs like she’s resigned.

He lets out a sigh of his own, “so you gonna order or what? They don’t pay me to make conversation, if they did, I’d be fired a long time ago.”

She finally smiles again.

–

Layla comes back after that– not that her showing up to binge on Chinese is new, she’s been doing it as long as he’s worked at The Paper Lantern. Except now it’s like she comes specifically to talk to him instead of her usual ‘come for the Szechuan tofu, stay for polite conversation with that guy you went to high school with’, which– so surreal. He remains horribly updated on her life, from her finalizing her break with Stronghold, to the new succulents she’s planted. Yeah, he knows what succulents are now, along with probably a hundred other kinds of obscure plant life only Layla gives a shit about.

One night as he’s ringing up her order he has the sickening realization that they’re probably friends. Probably have been for a long time considering she’s one of the few supers he has an interest in talking to.

And he is interested in talking to her, underneath all the nauseating starry-eyed idealism, there’s a sarcastic, unimpressed jerk who he can actually relate to.

“Why do you still work here?” Layla asks him one day while they’re sitting in a booth. Warren technically clocked out 15 minutes ago, but Layla hasn’t finished her Buddha’s Delight so he’s stuck around.

“Because I’m afraid if I quit, you’ll find out where I live?”

She rolls her eyes, she’s always rolling her eyes, “I mean, you graduated, you got your alter ego and everything, but you still just work here.”

“My powers are pretty much just collateral damage, not really many crimes call for everything to get more destroyed.”

“Come on, I’m sure there are practical applications for it.”

“Well, my heating bill’s pretty much non-existent.”

She tilts her head and Warren’s eyes are drawn to the little wrinkle between her eyebrows “Why do you always do that?”

“Do what?”

She puts on what Warren calls her ‘don’t bullshit me’ face, “Whenever I try to ask you about yourself, you just make some joke.”

Warren considers making another joke just to be combative, but finds himself not wanting to piss Layla off at the moment, “I guess I don’t like to talk about myself. Not that there’s much to talk about.”

Layla raises an eyebrow and lets it hang there.

Warren moves to rake a hand through his hair before remembering it’s still up in a bun from work. “All right, Red. I’ll make you a deal. You get one question a day and I’ll give you an honest answer, but that’s it. Otherwise, I might actually gag from all your touchy-feely hippy crap.”

“Fair enough,” she says, holding her hand out across the table and Warren realizes she wants to shake on it.

He takes her hand awkwardly and shakes once. As she pulls her hand back he notices she has callouses on her palms.

“So,” she says leaning forward, “why are you working at a Chinese restaurant instead of being a hero?”

Warren crosses his arms and shrugs, “I know the owners, the pay’s not bad–I’m actually a manager,” he offers, knowing she’ll enjoy the extra information, “love Chinese food. And in addition to my powers being horrifically destructive on any sort of large scale, I’m not interested in proving people right–or wrong, whatever.”

“What do you mean?”

“Everyone knows about my parents. When I put on the suit and go out there, half of them think I’m going to follow in my dad’s footsteps and the other half’ think I need to spend every waking moment making up for what he did.”

“You don’t seem like you care what people think.”

“Yeah, well therapy only does so much,” he says. It’s more honest than he’d intended, he doesn’t especially like to think about the sessions his mom made him go to after dad got sent to supermax, and again after the mess with Royal Pain.

Layla looks like she wants to ask about it, but apparently she’s abiding by his one question a day rule, thank God.

“Can I get a to-go box?” she asks instead.

Warren gives a put-upon sigh, “you act like I work here or something,” he says before getting up to retrieve a container for her.

-

Every so often, The Paper Lantern screws up his check. It’s not actually a hassle to come in on his day off to sort it out, but it is baffling that this is still happening six years down the line.

And because there’s some flower shaped signal in the sky that goes off every time he steps foot in here, he runs into Layla.

He gives her a nod, but she’s looking at him funny.

“What?”

She shakes her head a little, like she’s clearing it. “you’re out of uniform.”

“Yeah, they let me out once a week to get my exercise, but I can put an apron on if it’ll make you more comfortable.”

“No, your hair’s down, it makes you look… different.”

Warren brushes his hair behind is ear self consciously, he hasn’t bothered to cut in in ages, he doesn’t wanna know how it looks to Layla with her freakishly shiny, perfectly styled hair.

Layla winces, “not bad different, it looks good, you look good– I just didn’t realize how long it’s gotten. What are you doing here?”

He holds up his check in answer.

“Oh, you wanna get lunch?”

Warren frowns, “here?”

Layla shrugs, “doesn’t have to be.”

They end up at a small vegetarian cafe down the street which is apparently where Layla goes when she’s not in the mood for Chinese if her familiarity with the staff is anything to go by.

The menu’s a dizzying list of vegetables he’s never heard of all ‘tossed lightly in the house vinaigrette’. He orders a caesar salad.

“Is this weird?” Layla asks, “us hanging out here?”

“No weirder than you only talking to me while I’m at work.”

Layla scrunches up her face, “okay, that is weird. Gimme your phone.”

Warren hands it over without a fight, no use pretending he doesn’t like hanging out with her at this point. She types away at it for a minute before handing it back.

“Okay, I sent myself a text.”

He examines the contact. She’s saved herself as ‘Layla Williams’ so he goes in and deletes the name, typing in ‘Red’ with a flower emoji next to it.

“What did you just save me as?”

“Mind your business,” he says, tucking his phone back in his pocket, “unless that’s your question of the day?”

Layla purses her lips, “just for that, I’m saving you as ‘hot pants’.”

Warren grins, “I do look great in them.”

–

‘we’re going bowling thursday’.

Warren frowns down at the text Layla’s sent him, ‘define we’.

‘me, you… other assorted friends?’

‘yeah not really into that last one, i’ll pass’.

His phone rings.

“Seriously?” He answers.

“Please, Warren, “ Layla says on the other end.

“I hate literally all of your friends.”

“You like Magenta,” Layla counters.

“Yeah Magenta, not Magenta’s weird boyfriends. The melty one’s always hitting on me.” Layla’s social circle leaves a lot to be desired if he’s being honest.

Layla groans, “…Will’s bringing Titana.”

Warren groans back, “fine. I don’t have to pretend we’re dating again, do I?”

“You think they’d buy it?”

“Oh my God.”

“I’m kidding!” Layla insists, “well, mostly kidding, wear something sleeveless just in case.”

“Hate you,” Warren says with no heat.

“See you Thursday.”

Layla is very lucky Warren still gets a kick out of getting under Stronghold’s skin, even after all these years. Which is why he does wear something sleeveless as Layla asked and also why he offered to pick her up on his bike.

“I can’t believe you have a motorcycle,” Layla says, climbing on behind him.

“Well, I don’t just take after my mom,” Warren smiles.

Will is predictably shocked and predictably pretending like he doesn’t care when they show up together. The rest of them standing outside don’t seem quite as surprised and Magenta just wolf whistles at his bike.

“Layla, you didn’t tell me you were bringing Warren,” Will says once they’re all together outside the alley. Titana’s next to him, in her civillian clothes which are actually pretty modest. It figures, Warren thinks, it’s always the quiet ones, not to mention Stronghold’s borderline fetish for girl next door types.

Layla tugs on the hem of her shirt, “W-well, I just figured…”

“Technically I brought her,” Warren interjects, stepping into her space slightly, “let’s go inside,” he says, making a point of addressing Layla and only Layla.

“What the hell, Red?” Warren whispers once they’re inside and away from the others.

“Did you see her? She’s gorgeous.”

“And you’re not?”

Layla blinks at that, “really?”

Warren rolls his eyes, “Hippy hot trumps librarian hot every time. And if you dragged me out here just so you could sit around wishing you were here with Stronghold, I will personally burn every take out order you get for the rest of our lives.”

“Wow,” Layla says, “that was weirdly inspiring. Let’s bowl.”

It’s not horrible, he insulates himself between Layla and Magenta and does his best to ignore Zack and Ethan’s attempts to catch up.

His relationship with Will has always been awkward, mostly because Will had thought saving everyone from dying horribly together meant they were suddenly best friends and was confused when Warren didn’t feel the same. Even after he got over the whole ‘your dad beat up my dad and now I have to go through a metal detector to see him’ thing, he still didn’t particularly like the guy. He was so into fulfilling the good guy role it always came off as disingenuous to Warren.

Warren would be lying if he said annoying Will just by talking to Layla wasn’t a little fun.

“I’m waiting for him to come over here and defend your virtue,” Warren mutters, stretching his arms out on each side on the backs of Layla and Magenta’s seats.

“Like you would,” Layla says just as Magenta says, “Layla’s got virtue left?”

“I’d defend your lack of virtue,” Warren says.

Layla huffs, “who am I kidding, he’s too busy worrying about Titana’s ‘virtue’ to care what I’m doing.”

Warren pretends to sniff, “do you smell burnt lo mein?”

“Shut up, it’s not like that,” Layla says.

“Oh God, you’re doing inside jokes. I’m gonna go get nachos now before I barf,” Magenta says, heading for the snack bar.

“It really isn’t like that,” Layla insists. “It’s just like ‘congrats, your ex totally moved on before you did.”

“Hey, I wore a tank top, I don’t know what else you want me to do outside of taking your dubious virtue on one of the lanes,” he says, even though that puts a picture in his head he doesn’t think should be there.

Layla cracks up, “oh yeah, finish that whirlwind romance we started back in high school?”

“I can put the red highlights back in my hair to really take you back,” Warren says, moving his arm forward so it rests on her shoulders, “set the snack bar on fire in a fit of angst.”

“I’ll put my hair up in pigtails, throw in an ‘every day is earth day’ organic cotton tee.”

“Oh baby,” Warren says as dryly as possible.

“Do I need to hose you two off?” Magenta asks, plopping down next to Warren, nachos in hand. “Actually Will looks like he’s gonna faint, keep it up, this could be funny.”

Luckily Warren doesn’t have to respond to any of that as Ethan informs him it’s his turn and when he sits back down the moment’s gone, Layla and Magenta on to talking about some internship.

–

Warren’s occasionally wondered what it’d take to get him back in the suit, if he’d ever be a hero anything other than sparingly and sporadically. It turns out all it takes is a text.

‘911! 4th & Main, suit up’

He’s out of the door and on his bike in an instant.

He’s a block away when he sees why Layla called him in, there a fire on one of the upper floors of an apartment building and if the shouts are anything to go on, there’s still people inside.

“You know I’m a lot better at starting fires than putting them out,” he shouts above the noise.

“But you can put them out,” Layla says, she’s a completely different creature in uniform. Where Layla is friendly and a little awkward, Gaia is so fierce and in control you’d believe she really was a goddess.

“How am I supposed to get up there?”

“Leave that to me,” she says and the ground starts to shake.

Warren watches as a sapling on the sidewalk quickly multiplies in size. Layla ushers him onto a branch once it’s large enough to hold their weight and then they’re climbing up towards the row of windows billowing smoke.

“When we get up there, stay low, get everyone out, I’ll clear you a path and try to keep the flames under control,” Warren says, slipping effortlessly into hero-mode.

“Got it.”

Warren redirects and extinguishes as much fire as he can in the vague shape of a path and follows Layla toward the door. “Watch out,” he says kicking the door down and smothering the flames waiting on the other side.

He clears the hallway proceeds to break down each door so Layla can guide the residents out the way they came.

It’s messy and terrifying and he nearly gets a concussion from a falling beam, going back for a little girl’s cat, but they manage to get everyone out safe.

He’s sitting next to Layla in the back of an ambulance while she gets a minor burn on her arm looked at.

“Sorry about that,” he says, being fireproof himself, he’s never been burned, but it looks like it hurts.

“It’s nothing,” Layla says, pulling off her oxygen mask and offering it to him.

Warren looks between it and her, “you know I can literally breathe fire right?”

“Well excuse me for not wanting you to die of smoke inhalation. Next time you can choke.”

Warren scoffs, “not gonna be a next time.”

Layla pretends to pout, “you don’t wanna team up again?”

“Oh yeah, I can see it now,” he waves a hand out in front of himself, “Gaia and Phoenix: only they can prevent forest fires.”

“Do you take anything seriously?”

“That your question?”

“Sure.”

Warren considers for a moment, “I used to take everything seriously, so I guess I’m just trying to lighten up. Also it’s just plain fun to mess with you.”

Layla frowns, “now I feel like a jerk.”

“You are a jerk,” Warren agrees.

“Oh look, sympathy gone,” Layla says.

Warren laughs, “come on, let’s get out of here before the press shows up and decides I started the fire in the first place.”

–

“This is your house?” Layla says, sounding impressed.

“Yep,” Warren says, letting her inside.

“Nice, but isn’t it a little–”

Warren holds up a hand to stop her, “yeah I know.” The irony of living in a fire station that had been refurbished into a loft was not lost on him, or literally anyone he’s brought home who knew about his powers.

“Do you still have the poles,” Layla asks, looking around.

Warren leans against a wall, “why, you wanna see me strip?”

Layla turns almost as red as her hair, “shut up.”

“You sure? I’ve got a whole routine worked out and everything.” He lifts the hem of his shirt up slightly.

“You are the worst,” she says, “I don’t even want to stay here anymore.”

“Sit down, Red, I know you’re dying to look through all my stuff.” He heads toward the kitchen, “I’ll make you a drink and pretend I can’t hear you rifling through my drawers.”

He opens his liquor cabinet and tries not to over analyze the fact that he was definitely just flirting with Layla. He hadn’t even meant to, it just felt natural which is all kinds of terrifying, so, drinks. He gets a tray and sets a few bottles and some glasses on it along with a few mixers from the fridge. He carries it all to the living room on one hand, setting it down on the coffee table.

He grabs the remote from Layla’s hands, and selects the first decent looking movie that’s on.

“Rude,” Layla says, looking over what he’s brought out.

“Door’s over there,” he says almost on reflex at this point, grabbing two shot glasses and filling them up with fireball. Layla goes to take one but he stops her, topping them off with a little rum. He holds up a shot to his mouth and breathes softly on the rim, letting the rum catch fire before holding it out to Layla.

He repeats the process on the other shot before downing it, flame and all.

“You’re gonna wanna blow yours out first,” he advises.

She rolls her eyes before blowing out the flame and tossing it back. Her eyes widen, “that tastes like fire or… lighter fluid, oh my goodness.”

Warren laughs, “welcome to my world.”

“Can I get a rum and coke without you lighting something on fire?”

“If you wanna take all the fun out of it,” Warren says grabbing a glass.

They establish a solid buzz as they watch the random action movie Warren picked, making fun of it all the while and splitting leftover Chinese Warren had in the fridge.

Layla turns out to be a giggly drunk, wide-eyed and rosy cheeked and somehow charming,

“You’re my best friend Warren,” Layla says leaning her head on his shoulder.

“You know Red,” Warren says resting his cheek on top of her head, “that starts to lose feeling after the fifth or so time you say it.”

“No, I just mean it five times, more. You get me, you see past all the… the flowers and the granola, you see me. I like that.”

He kisses her hair, “same here, Red.”

-

Warren is admittedly half asleep behind the counter at work. In his defense, the place has been completely dead all day, no one but Mrs. Li stopping in all day. It’s been raining on an off all day, so people would rather have their food delivered than come and get it themselves.

He’s startled into wakefulness when the door opens and gets slammed shut by the wind behind a soaked Layla.

He looks her up and down, her hair is plastered to her face and her clothes are noticeably dripping. It’s funny, any time he gets caught in the rain he looks like a drowned rat, but Layla looks like it’s all part of her outfit. He wants to ask why that outfit doesn’t include a coat but Layla points a finger at him.

“Not a word.”

He grins, “you know we deliver right?”

“Shut up. I was nearby when it started pouring and this was the first place I could think to go.”

“Come on, I’ll get you a towel.”

He leads her into the small break room in the back of the restaurant and closes the door. He rifles through a laundry basket full of clean aprons until he finds a hand towel for Layla,

“Sorry, biggest we’ve got.”

“It’s fine,” Layla says, drying her face.

“You cold?”

“No,” Layla says, even though she’s visibly shivering.

Warren rolls his eyes and steps closer, “come here.” He channels heat into the palms of his hands and stops just shy of letting flames erupt there. He ghosts them over Layla’s shoulders and down her arms and back up, “better?” he asks, repeating the motion.

Layla nods, “told you there were practical uses.”

He laughs, “yeah, human electric blanket.”

“Well, human Miracle-Gro appreciates it.”

Warren lets the heat dissipate from one hand so he can brush her hair behind her ear. The rain’s turned it dark, almost brown, it makes her face look even paler and causes the flush on her cheeks to stand out.

She smiles and Warren’s breath catches in in his throat.

“What?” She asks.

“Huh?”

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

He ducks his head once and looks back up at her, “that your question of the day?”

“Sure, why not?

Warren swallows, he really hopes she doesn’t slap him for this. He cups his hands on either side of her face and kisses her.

He expects her to tense up, but she leans into him like all the air’s been let out of her, fisting her hands in his shirt.

Warren’s kissed people, not a lot he thinks, but a good amount. None of them were like this though. His stomach actually flips and he’s really glad Layla’s already asked her question, because that is not something he ever wants to admit. She’s still cold and damp and it’s giving him goosebumps everywhere they’re touching.

Layla pulls back and swats him in the shoulder, “you moron!”

Warren blinks, “I am very confused.”

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to kiss you?”

Warren raises an eyebrow, “so why didn’t you?”

“I thought you weren’t interested!”

“Well I am,” Warren says, “I didn’t really get it until just now, but I am.”

“You probably have to get back to work huh?”

“Yeah,” Warren says and kisses her again.

–

“Hey, do I get a question?” Warren asks one night. They’re at his house, curled up on the couch, making fun of a superhero movie on tv.

Layla continues idly playing with his hair, not looking at him, “well I’m actually open about my feelings so you get all the questions.”

“Holding you to that, Red,” he says, “you know how you said you wanted to kiss me for so long or whatever?”

“Not what I said, but continue.”

“How long?”

“Technically… since homecoming?”

Warren turns so he’s looking at her full on, “homecoming homecoming?”

“I mean it was just for a second, there was all the adrenaline and life-saving… it crossed my mind, okay?”

Warren grins, “I knew you had a thing for me back then.”

Her forehead gets that wrinkle in it, “It was not a thing.”

Warren pointed looks to where they’re pressed up against each other, “kinda feels like a thing.”

Layla rolls her eyes, “oh, yes,” she says flatly, “I don’t know how I resisted you for so long, take me now.”

He pulls her closer and kisses her cheek, “well, if you insist.”


End file.
